


Maybe Feet Aren’t So Gross When They’re Malfoy’s

by gothgryffindor



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Foot Fetish, Foot Jobs, Foot Massage, M/M, Porn, Smut, Sub Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 03:13:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13332282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothgryffindor/pseuds/gothgryffindor
Summary: In which Harry Potter may or may not accidentally realize he has a fetish for Malfoy's feet, and Draco Malfoy really can not stop putting bloody lotion on those very godforsaken feet every chance he gets.





	Maybe Feet Aren’t So Gross When They’re Malfoy’s

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting my work on this site. Hope you all enjoy!

Harry Potter did not have a foot fetish. There was no way he could have one, he kept telling himself futilely. Feet were alright, but no, no way in hell did they get him going or anything of that sort. Dealing with being Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, and the Chosen One all at once was already enough; a foot fetish was truly the last thing he needed.

Okay, well maybe that was sort of a lie, although he would never admit that to himself. Maybe one, specific pair of feet could get him all hot and flustered, but, no, he for sure didn’t have a foot fetish. Some people just had nice feet, that was all.

And maybe those people with nice feet also shouldn’t always be presenting them so haughtily every time they were around Harry, not knowing what it did to him.

Harry had realized his unusual… affinity - because it was an affinity, not a fetish, he reminded himself - for a certain person’s feet one day after his usual Quidditch practice. He hadn’t been able to get the thought of them out of his head since then. He almost wanted to perform a self-induced Obliviate spell on himself just so his mind could finally be at peace again.

Deep down though, Harry knew he never would willingly make himself forget the beauty that that one person’s feet were. The curve of the underside arch of them, the stark, angular ankle softly residing above the rest of the foot, the smooth, pale skin covering shifting tendons and translucent veins, and the sweet, yet dirty innocence they all embodied when put together. Now that he knew about all of that, he never wanted to go back to not knowing it.

That one fateful day, Harry had followed his normal after-practice routine. He was stripping himself of his Quidditch uniform, and he had gone to go pick up his robes to put them back on before he realized they were nowhere to be found. Immediately confused as to where they could’ve gone off to, he stood there in befuddlement.

It wasn’t as if they had just wandered off by themselves, although, at Hogwarts, that certainly was still a credible possibility. He scanned the room, seeing everyone else still getting changed, not noticing anyone with an extra robe, until something in his brain clicked. Malfoy, he sneered.

He strided angrily over to another section of the locker room, fuming with steam practically pouring out of his ears, heading towards where he knew the loathsome Slytherin usually changed. Huffing and puffing, he stopped once he had reached his destination.

Without him telling it to, his mouth immediately fell open in an ‘o’ of surprise at what he had just walked in on. Fuck. He quickly huddled behind some nearby lockers, peeking out behind them again after he had slowed down his rapid breathing.

Malfoy was, well, he was - Harry gulped. He turned back around again to collect himself quickly as the uninvited image of Malfoy, all alone in his own private corner of the locker room, gingerly slipping his upscale shoes off infiltrated Harry’s mind. 

Harry was even more puzzled now than when he had realized his robes were missing. He wasn’t even sure why he was acting as if he had just walked in on Malfoy wanking or something. As soon as he had seen a sliver of Malfoy’s foot, a jolt of electricity had ran straight through his body. Had someone just pulled a prank on him? Used a new charm he hadn’t heard about yet to make him feel like he had just been struck by lightning? Nothing else explained why he had just felt the way he had.

He let out a deep breath of air and turned around to gaze at Malfoy. And goddamnit, there was that shock again. Both of Malfoy’s shoes were off now, leaving him only in his dark green socks. Malfoy leaned down to begin peeling them off slowly, almost as if he knew Harry was watching (which he couldn’t possibly know, right?) and was putting on a special show just for him.

He exposed part of his smooth, uncalloused heel, and Harry heard Draco let out a content sigh. Harry found himself anxiously, almost excitedly waiting for Malfoy to pull more of his sock down, much to his own surprise. And, almost as if he had overheard Harry’s thoughts, Malfoy did just that.

As he moved his Slytherinesque sock off his unblemished foot, Harry swallowed hard in his throat in anticipation. More of Draco’s glowing-white skin was revealed as he pulled his sock all the way off, leaving him with one foot bare and the other one still covered with his other sock. Harry’s mouth pretty much drooled at the expanse of Malfoy’s skin that he had been rewarded with for staying there and watching him.

All of a sudden, Harry realized how voyeuristic this whole situation had become and began to feel dirty. He felt like he needed a shower just for remaining there and watching Malfoy. It was an unexpectedly intimate, private, and almost wrong thing to watch someone take off their shoes so intently, and Harry felt shame wash over his own skin.

He thought about leaving, but then remembered his robes, returning his attention to the scene laid out before him so he could see if he could spy them lying around anywhere. As soon as he had gazed at the area in front of him though, he slowly felt his eyes losing interest in the space around Malfoy and becoming much more intrigued in Malfoy himself again.

Fuck, what was going on with him? Harry didn’t like feet. This wasn’t him, he told himself worriedly, as he continued to hungrily watch Malfoy finally reveal his other foot, not able to take his eyes off of Malfoy at this point even if he wanted to. Harry quietly let out the breath he hadn’t even known he’d even been holding.

Malfoy leisurely pulled off his other sock and then casually proceeded to wiggle his toes, and Merlin, if Harry hadn’t lost it before, he practically did then. His toes, perfectly in Harry’s view, sported clean, cut toenails that were so Malfoy that Harry almost snickered. His cuticles were immaculately clipped, and it looked as if he had just come from getting a pedicure. Maybe he had. Harry wasn’t so sure why his lower region liked the idea of that so much. Leave it to Malfoy to make sure even something as miniscule and guarded as his toenails were perfect and impeccable. 

And then, Malfoy was reaching into his robes’ pocket, pulling something out of it, and Harry couldn’t see what it was, and he greedily edged closer and closer and closer and fuck, was that lotion he had in his hands?

Harry salivated blatantly now, drool practically spilling out of his mouth like he was in a Muggle cartoon. He could’ve sworn he was sporting humongous heart eyes at the moment too. What had this encounter come to? He had been originally walking over here with purely the intention of punching Malfoy’s face in if he found him with his robes, and now he was at the mercy of the boy’s bloody feet, of all things.

Draco, completely unaware of Harry’s current internal conflict, languidly unscrewed the cap on the little container of lotion and gingerly set it down next to him, not knowing how anxious Harry was while watching him the whole time.

Harry never let his eyes leave Malfoy, not wanting to miss a second of the Slytherin’s actions. He didn't even dare blink.

Draco let out another little soft breath of air that went straight to Harry’s cock before he turned his attention back to his feet. He dipped a slim, dainty finger into the lotion jar, took a scoop of the substance in the crook of his digit, and then went to put it on his feet. Harry stilled, feeling himself grow even hotter than he already was all over. To Harry’s delight, Malfoy ran his finger over part of his foot, rubbing the lotion into it until it had all dissolved into his pale skin.

This was so erotic, and Harry had absolutely no idea why. Maybe it was because this was Malfoy he was watching, and it was weird remembering Malfoy had personal moments too like these, where he was all on his lonesome and tending to himself with no one to impress or show off to or bother, for that matter. Maybe it was because feet were something usually hidden, something taboo to display openly in public, and yet here Harry was, seeing that intimate side of Malfoy as if it was nothing. Either way, Harry just desperately needed Malfoy to continue what he was doing.

Malfoy took two of his fingers and coated them with the lotion again. He moved them back to his foot, rubbing them on the bottom of it, shivering innocently at the sudden cool feeling of the lotion. And if Harry wasn’t hard before, he definitely was now.

Malfoy digged more lotion out with his whole hand now and ran it all over the entirety of his foot, leaving no area of his translucent skin uncovered. Again, he continued to rub it in, shuddering a bit at the feeling of his fingers in such a sensitive area. Malfoy ran his lotion-coated fingers on and between every single one of his toes, dragging his actions out and quivering at the raw touch of the substance on his skin before rubbing it in there gently too. Feeling his cock harden even more, Harry realized he was seriously and totally fucked. Like seriously and totally fucked.

Harry shifted a bit to adjust the feeling of his cock pressed so tightly against his underwear, and Malfoy’s head snapped immediately to where Harry was. He had been caught. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Potter? Is that you?” Malfoy called out with a smirk growing on his face as he peered around the lockers from his spot on the ground trying to get a better glimpse at him. “You can come out now; I already can tell it’s you by your unseemly shadow.”

Harry swallowed his pride - which he didn’t have much left of now anyways, he had just gotten hard by looking at his sworn rival’s feet - and stepped out from behind the safe, comfortable obscurity of the lockers and into the scary, bright, unknown corner of Malfoy’s world.

“Want to tell me what you were doing watching me like a filthy little pervert from back there?” Malfoy asked Harry, gesturing towards where he had just been standing before.

“You stole my robes, didn’t you?” Harry questioned Malfoy maliciously, trying to put on a stern front as if he hadn’t been just completely admiring Malfoy’s feet a few seconds ago. Speaking of Malfoy’s feet, they were still bare and covered in remnants of lotion that Malfoy hadn’t massaged into his skin yet, and it took all Harry had left in him not to stare unashamedly at them and make even more of a fool of himself.

“What makes you think I did that? I swear, Potter, you really think of me as the lowest of the low, huh?” Malfoy responded and dear sweet Merlin, he was rubbing the lotion into his feet again while talking to Harry.

The whole situation felt so much more real now than it had seemed before when Harry was simply watching from afar. Now, Malfoy was a real person, and those feet Harry had been lusting over so earnestly were even more real and were also attached to this Malfoy person, who was even more real than his feet were, and Harry was bluntly slapped in the face with the reality of it all.

Trying to avert his eyes away from Malfoy’s hands, which were unhurriedly still running over his lotion-covered feet, Harry gulped and replied with a “Well, who else would?”, hoping his voice wasn’t as breathless and meek as it sounded to him in his ears. 

He felt like at any moment now Malfoy would figure out what was going on and make him the laughingstock of the school. He could hear it now as little murmurs in the hallways - Harry Potter has a fetish for Malfoy’s feet?!

Malfoy laughed arrogantly a little, his hands still working at his feet to Harry’s fascinated horror, and answered with, “Well, for once, Potter, I’m not the one pulling your leg. Check somewhere else.” He made a shooing motion with his hands and turned to focus his attention back on his feet again.

Harry swallowed hurriedly, let out a quick “Right then,” and hurriedly scurried off back to his locker area, trying to shake off his arousal and the delicious idea filling his head of Malfoy letting his feet travel closer and closer to Harry and running them up Harry’s legs while he sat virtuously on the floor, edging them nearer and nearer towards Harry’s co…. No. No, no, no. This was so wrong; stop it, he told his mind strictly. No more thoughts of Malfoy’s feet, for Merlin’s sake. Absolutely no more.

When he got back to his space, everyone else had already gotten dressed and left, and he spotted a large, black clump of clothing peeking out from under his bags. It was his robes he had been so madly searching for. Seriously, how had he not noticed that earlier? If he had just looked harder in the first place, he wouldn’t ever have found himself in this new troubling feet issue. He shook his head. Stupid, stupid Potter.

He sighed dejectedly to himself before pulling them out from underneath his belongings and shuffling them on hurriedly, feeling that if he left the area as soon as possible, maybe he would forget about his weird run-in with Malfoy quicker and never remember how he got turned on by his bloody feet ever again.

A couple days later, Harry realized maybe he wouldn’t be able to erase the memory of Malfoy’s feet out of his head as soon as he would’ve liked to, of course. He was sitting in the courtyard with Ron and Hermione after classes and there was Malfoy close by again, irritatingly taunting him and not knowing it. At least he had his bloody shoes on this time.

Harry was trying to pay attention to what his two friends were conversing about, but his insipid, dense eyes kept drifting off to where Malfoy was sitting with Crabbe and Goyle underneath a nearby tree. Malfoy’s long, slender legs were outstretched in front of him, and the soles of his boots stared searing holes into Harry’s skin. Harry could’ve sworn he felt his whole body on fire.

“Something on your mind, Harry?” Hermione asked him, concern clear in her voice. Harry turned his gaze to look at her. Her chocolatey-brown eyes poured into his soul, begging him to divulge the deepest, darkest things in his heart, but Harry wasn’t so sure how he could tell her he had just wanked off to the thought of Malfoy’s feet on his body last night.

“It’s nothing, Hermione. Just worried about that test we have coming up in Divination tomorrow,” Harry told her with a warm smile, hoping she would take that as a reasonable response. Hermione grinned back, and Harry gladly took that as a sign that she had.

Harry chanced a glance back at Malfoy and immediately realized he shouldn’t have. Malfoy had just said, “I need to let my feet breathe,” and taken off his bloody fucking shoes again. Harry visibly swallowed as Malfoy lackadaisically moved his feet around inside his socks casually.

Harry looked up at the boy’s face and noticed Malfoy staring directly back at him. He really hoped his gawking at Malfoy’s feet wasn’t as obvious as he knew it had been. But, from the way Malfoy was curiously looking at him, it clearly really was that obvious. Fuck. He turned his head back to Ron and Hermione quickly, willing the whole situation to just go away, go away, go away.

From the corner of his eye, Harry noticed Malfoy’s eyes burning holes into his face, almost as if he was begging Harry to look back at him again. If Harry thought he had been on fire before, it was nothing to what he felt like now.

He maneuvered his eyes to where he was just barely looking at Malfoy again, but it still would’ve appeared to anyone watching him as if he was paying at least some attention to Ron and Hermione. Malfoy didn’t even bother to pretend he wasn’t gazing completely at Harry at this point, the total git.

A wave of dread coursed through Harry. Had he figured it out? Did he know what Harry had thought about at night ever since he had found Malfoy in that locker room? Had he somehow snuck inside Harry’s brain and seen all the horrible fantasies Harry had had about his feet and mocked them in disgust with Crabbe and Goyle already? Had he taken his feet out again right now as all part of some bigger prank to get Harry to look at him and prove he had a foot fetish for Malfoy’s feet to the whole student body of Hogwarts? Harry shuddered without even realizing that he had.

It didn’t seem like this was just some scheme though anymore as Harry watched Malfoy take off his dark grey socks, new ones, Harry noticed, as he still stared pits into Harry’s soul. Harry watched through his peripheral vision as Malfoy revealed his pretty, polished feet again, and Harry gulped roughly, his throat extremely dry all of a sudden. 

Harry risked looking straight back at him, and oh god, Malfoy had just taken out the lotion again, all while gazing straight back at Harry the whole time. He knew. He had to know by now.

Malfoy unscrewed the cap again, quickly this time, and broke his eye contact with Harry to turn and explain to Crabbe and Goyle, “My feet feel really rough this afternoon.” They absentmindedly nodded back, returning to their homework, and Harry began to wonder if Malfoy’s explanation for his actions was really for him and not them.

He moved his fingers inside the lotion container again, pulling them back out to demonstrate a large glob of the lotion to Harry. He watched Harry as his lips pulled into a taut smirk, and he began to slather the substance all over one of his feet.

His fingers rubbed it in again, and he let his hands sensually massage the underside of his foot quite roughly this time. They seemed to hit a sensitive spot at which Malfoy outright fucking whined at and Merlin, Harry was rock hard again.

He looked around in what he hoped was an unnoticeable manner to make sure no one was watching them and picking up on whatever was going on between them. A small part of him also didn’t want anyone else to have heard Malfoy’s moan either. Just a small part of him.

He returned his attention back to Malfoy and was instantly delighted that he had. Malfoy was rubbing the lotion between his toes now, revealing the small, pink areas of skin that resided there. Harry’s mouth practically watered with want. He closed his lips that he hadn’t even realized were open.

Malfoy whimpered again as he massaged the lotion into his toes, skirting around his toenails, making sure to reach every area. Harry’s cock was aching now in his pants, and he desperately yearned for release. The last thing he needed was to come in his pants in front of his peers in a public courtyard because of Malfoy, of all people.

Concerning Malfoy, actually, he had to know what he was doing to Harry, right? Was this some sort of test to confirm his suspicions about what Harry had done in the locker room? If this really was some exam, he was positive he had definitely failed at this point, he thought as his cock twitched in his pants again while he watched Malfoy.

Okay, he was really about to come from just watching Malfoy run lotion over his feet, and he couldn’t let that happen right now, especially not while he was in public. He needed to think quickly and get out of here.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” he told Ron and Hermione abruptly as he grabbed for his bag and ran inside Hogwarts, ducking into the closest empty room he could find, closing the door behind him.

He promptly dropped his hands to his cock and started palming at it through his robes, practically purring at how welcome the relief it gave him felt. Images of Malfoy’s perfect feet flooded his mind, and he gladly accepted them at this point. He wasn’t even going to bother feeling ashamed of himself anymore when he felt this good.

And, okay, maybe Harry should actually feel ashamed of himself again, Harry realized as Malfoy suddenly barged into the room Harry was sure he had locked behind him. If he wasn’t screwed before, he definitely was now.

“Running off like that, Potter? I thought all you Gryffindors were supposed to be brave,” Malfoy sneered, making Harry swallow again for what felt like the millionth time. Merlin, his throat had been so dry lately.

“Nothing to say, huh?” Malfoy grinned as Harry remained silent.

Harry glanced down at his own feet, wanting to be hit with an Avada Kedavra on the spot, when he realized Malfoy was still barefoot. He must have left his shoes and socks in the courtyard when he had run off to follow Harry.

Some of the lotion on his foot was still there, and Harry desperately wanted to reach out and touch Malfoy, rub it into his skin for him.

“Maybe since you so rudely interrupted what I was doing, you can finish it for me,” Malfoy told him, giving Harry just the chance he had been waiting for for so long now, it felt like.

Had Harry heard him right, though? Malfoy was disgusted with him, why would he want Harry to touch him anymore, especially on a private place like his feet? This had to be a very, very weird prank. It just had to be.

“Do I need to tell you twice, Potter? I can always just leave,” Malfoy told Harry, as if he knew exactly why Harry wouldn’t want him to leave. He knew somehow that Harry wouldn’t gladly jump at the chance to miss out on touching his feet, and it made Harry nervous thinking about how he had figured it all out.

“Okay,” he replied back shortly, not wanting to reveal too much emotion too soon if this really was just some big joke.

“Alright, then,” Malfoy grinned back before sitting on the floor across from Harry with his never-ending legs spread out in front of Harry again, his feet begging to be touched, the lotion beginning to drip off of his skin in the heat of the room.

Harry let out a breath of air as he kneeled down and warily let his hands venture towards Malfoy’s feet. This seemed like a dream, and he wanted to be gentle with Malfoy so that if all of this really was only in his head, he wouldn’t ruin it.

He laid a finger of his on Malfoy’s foot, looking up at the boy for some sort of clue as to why he was doing this only to be met with a steely look from Malfoy. “I don’t have all day, you know,” Malfoy told him, a touch of annoyance in his voice. Seeing right through him, Harry realized he was probably only loosely threatening to leave again purely because he knew Harry wouldn’t want that and would get to work right away due to that. Malfoy was right.

Harry laid another finger on Malfoy’s foot gingerly, eventually letting the rest of his fingers come down to rest on the skin there. He felt one of Malfoy’s veins pulse underneath his thumb. “Is this good?” Harry asked.

“Start moving them around, and I’ll tell you,” Malfoy responded curtly, still refusing to show any emotion in his countenance.

Harry sighed and moved his hand towards a particularly large area of lotion that had yet to be rubbed in. He laid the palm of his hand flat on Malfoy’s foot and let his fingers begin to rub in the area, watching and drooling as the lotion gradually disappeared into Malfoy’s waiting skin.

Harry, gaining confidence at the fact that Malfoy hadn’t laughed at him or called out his cronies to come laugh at Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived To Like Malfoy’s Feet, moved his fingers to grasp at the underside arch of Malfoy’s foot. He heard Malfoy let out a small sound of surprise and smiled to himself.

Remembering how this part of Malfoy’s foot was especially sensitive, Harry roughened his touch in the area, pressing down hard on the tendons and ligaments he could feel underneath the tender skin there. He broke out into a wide grin as Malfoy let out yet another whimper.

He switched his gaze up to Malfoy’s face, relishing in the emotion he had finally evoked in the arcane Slytherin. Malfoy’s skin had noticeably reddened, and blotches were starting to appear on his pretty neck. Perfect.

“Someone else likes this too, huh? Guess it’s not just Pervert Potter, then,” Harry told Draco triumphantly, at which Draco just scoffed at and turned away, biting his lip not-so-discreetly and nodding while avoiding Harry’s eyes.

Harry, overcome with joy and arousal at Draco’s very Malfoy way of announcing that he liked all of this too, began to rub the leftover lotion into Draco’s skin with more fervor and force. He was going to make sure Draco liked this just as much as he did.

He reached a spot between Draco’s toes and rubbed it in gently before doing the same to Draco’s adjacent toes, all his actions provoking small sounds of pleasure from the boy.

He loved knowing that underneath Malfoy’s scowl and petty insults was a boy who really liked his feet being touched, who really liked his feet being touched by his rival, no less. Harry couldn’t really speak though. Underneath his hatred and aversion for Malfoy was really just a boy who liked touching his rival’s feet himself.

Finishing up on rubbing that bloody lotion into Malfoy’s feet, Harry turned to an observably out-of-breath Draco, waiting for what was next.

Apparently, Draco was already two steps ahead. “Lean back against the wall,” he told Harry, much more weakly now than when he had first arrived in the room. Harry smirked at how much he had broken him down since then just by touching his feet.

Harry eagerly followed Draco’s instructions and laid his body against the wall behind him, suddenly becoming very aware of how unbearably hard his cock had grown. He let out a small groan as he shifted his position and moved his eyes up to Draco to see if he understood what Harry wanted. By his blown eyes and open, salivating mouth, he clearly did.

“Here comes the fun part, Potter,” Draco told him, a smirk playing on his lips. He propped his hands behind himself as he brought his legs up into a bent position and scooted his body a bit closer to Harry. When he went to outstretch his body again, his feet now rested on Harry’s thighs. And oh, this really was going to be fun.

He brought the back of one of his feet up as he pointed it, just barely letting his toes graze Harry’s robes. He moved his pointed foot up and down Harry’s legs so lazily Harry almost cried out at the slow, painful torture of it. Each time, Malfoy let his toes perch closer and closer to Harry’s waiting cock, yet never quite touched it.

He splayed his toes on Harry’s shin, letting all of them rest back on Harry as he brought the heel of his foot down too. And, Merlin, he was doing that bloody wiggling thing again, and Harry had to try extra hard now not to come in his underwear right then and there now.

He wriggled his toes around on Harry as he moved his foot now, bringing them up towards Harry’s thigh now and letting Harry feel each small movement of his impeccable, upkept foot. He draped his toes right next to Harry’s cock, teasing him, as he feigned like he was going to finally lay them on that forever-aching part of Harry before bringing them back down to rest on Harry’s bloody thigh again.

“Who knew you could tease me in such different ways than making fun of me, huh, Malfoy?” Harry asked as he laid his head against the wall behind him in defeat, letting out a large sigh.

Draco let out a small laugh back. It was weird, hearing Draco laugh at something he had said genuinely instead of in a mean-spirited way for once, almost weirder than the fact that Draco was now pointing his other foot and gently letting the tips of his toes ghost along Harry’s leg again.

He stopped his foot this time in the hollow underneath Harry’s knee, digging his toes in there in a way that generally would’ve made Harry cringe normally but was so sensual and erotic now all it did was make Harry’s cock twitch again underneath his robes.

“Like that, Potter?” Draco cooed out, his lips pulled back into a wide smirk again.

“Love it, Malfoy. Love the soft feeling of your pretty foot on my rough skin. I could never get enough of it,” Harry growled back, his untouched cock making itself even more known than before.

And, oh Merlin, now Draco had slid his foot underneath Harry’s robes, for crying out loud, and the sudden direct skin-on-skin contact on Harry’s legs was almost enough to make him orgasm right then and there. 

Malfoy moved his other foot underneath Harry’s robes now, to Harry’s cock’s delight, and delicately proceeded to push the fabric of Harry’s robes up the boy’s body, revealing Harry’s bare legs as he went. He finally reached Harry’s stomach and stopped there, exposing Harry’s very hard cock still stuck in his very tight underwear.

Harry went to finally take his cock out, but a lift of Malfoy’s foot told him no. He sighed and laid his hands at his sides again, feigning annoyance, but secretly really excited for whatever Malfoy was going to award him with next.

Malfoy then went on to let his toes start to maneuver their way through Harry’s dark leg hair, letting it rest on and in between his toes. 

“So hot,” Malfoy let out in a quick breath, and Harry looked at him with a bit of bewilderment on his face. Judging by the furrow of Malfoy’s eyebrows and the expression of confusion on his face too, Harry wasn’t sure whether he or Malfoy was more surprised by the Slytherin’s words.

The whole thing was all so dirty and impure, but Harry was starting to think maybe that was made it so hot. Malfoy was running his toes through Harry’s leg hair, something else not inherently sexual, yet here they were. Judging by the growing bulge Harry noticed underneath Malfoy’s robes, he was enjoying this just as much as Harry was.

Malfoy moaned a bit under his breath as he brought both of his feet onto one of Harry’s calves, sifting through the thick, long hair there. Malfoy visibly gulped. Harry’s cock really loved the idea of Malfoy getting turned on by such a masculine part of his body, and Harry did too.

“I think there’s another part of me that you’re forgetting about, Malfoy,” Harry grinned, gesturing towards his hard cock angrily pressing up against the cotton fabric of his underwear. Malfoy tore his attention away from his feet in Harry’s leg hair and looked at where Harry was pointing towards. He licked his lips without meaning to.

“Didn’t forget, Potter. Maybe I just like taking my time with things like these. A foreign concept to you, apparently,” Malfoy responded, trying to appear unfazed by the whole thing, but the breathy tone of his voice revealed much more than Malfoy probably would’ve wanted it to.

“Well then, get to work. I could always just leave, you know. I don’t have all day, Malfoy,” Harry told Malfoy with a smirk on his face, mocking the boy’s original words. Their roles had reversed more and more as this whole situation had gone on, and Harry relished in that.

“But, we both wouldn’t want that, would we?” Malfoy sneered back. Harry made a stern face, trying to appear tough, but he and Malfoy both knew what Malfoy had said was right.

Malfoy smiled at Harry’s unspoken agreeance and moved his feet away from Harry’s calves and up his legs further and further until each of his feet were both lying on either side of Harry’s cock. Then, Merlin, finally, he laid one of his toes at the base of Harry’s cock and started to drag it up and down the length of Harry in slow, tedious lines.

Malfoy let another of his toes begin to drag along Harry’s cock as he let the foot closer to Harry’s balls begin to push down on the boy’s bollocks gently, provoking a groan from Harry, which Malfoy smiled at.

“Merlin, you really do like that, don’t you, Potter?” Malfoy asked him, a little bit of disbelief in his voice.

“Just shut up and keep doing what you’re doing,” Harry answered in one breath, biting down on his bottom lip as he resisted the urge to buck his hips up into Malfoy’s feet.

Malfoy pressed the ball of his foot down into Harry’s shaft and Harry shifted underneath the pressure, loving the way it made him feel. It was so weird and yet so erotic at the same time that it was Malfoy causing his body to react this way with simply his fucking feet.

“Pull down my underwear already,” Harry ordered Malfoy, not wanting to come before Malfoy’s feet actually touched his uncovered cock.

Expecting Malfoy to use his hands now to do this, Harry couldn’t help but gape as Malfoy used his bloody toes to move Harry’s underwear down around his thighs. He curled them underneath the waistband of Harry’s underpants and made a pulling motion downwards, not stopping until Harry’s underwear rested right under his pulsing cock now.

Harry marveled at how much apparent skill this must have took Malfoy and scowled a bit at remembering how annoyingly the boy excelled in everything he did, apparently even using his feet in place of his hands. 

Immediately, Harry’s brain was crammed with images of Malfoy doing this to countless other boys before him who had also been lucky enough to witness the innocent beauty of his feet and getting his practice that way. Harry’s blood boiled, but he told it to calm down. It wasn’t his business how many other people Malfoy had pleasured with his feet, as much as he wished it was. He cringed at the thought of anyone else but him receiving this special treatment from Malfoy.

“You’re my first, Potter,” Malfoy told him, and fuck, he really must be reading Harry’s mind at this point.

“ How -” Harry managed to get out in his bewilderment.

“You’re not as good at hiding your emotions as you might think. Hate to break it to you,” Malfoy responded, smiling up at him as he moved his feet closer to Harry’s waiting cock again.

He began to place his feet on either side of Harry’s cock again, but this time, he gripped tightly on both sides of it with his toes, holding it steady and straight up. And, fuck, he had started to move his feet up and down Harry’s cock.

Harry felt his cock twitch again in Malfoy’s grasp and watched Malfoy smirk. Merlin, this was so, so obscene. Malfoy, who had just been at his throat a couple days ago, was using his feet to get off Harry Potter. It was so abstract that Harry almost laughed.

 

Malfoy let out little puffs of air as he worked his feet smoothly up and down Harry’s cock as easily as if they were his hands. It was so hot seeing such an unsexual part of Malfoy’s body being used in such a sexual way.

“You know, Harry, I figured you out after what happened in the locker room. I was ecstatic when I realized you liked my feet. I actually put an invisibility charm on your robes since I knew you would assume I took them and come to where I was to look for them. I wanted you to like my feet and figured it’d be a good test to see if you really would or not. I figured if you came over angrily and didn’t even care to look at my feet, that meant you didn’t like them like I wanted you to, and I’d have to get over wanting you to admire them. But, I also knew if you came out all exasperated and breathless just like you did, that meant I had caught you. And I really did, huh?” Malfoy let out, continuing the teasing movements of his cool feet against Harry’s cock.

“Merlin, Malfoy, why? You hate me,” Harry added, trying to keep his intense arousal out of his voice and horribly failing.

“Did it ever cross your mind that maybe I have a foot fetish of my own? Not in the weird way you do, that’s just flat out strange -” Draco paused to look up at Harry with a playful smirk on his face to show he was probably just joking, then continued, “I like the thought of others liking my feet. I put so much work into them to keep them nice and perfect that I’ve been wanting someone to notice that for so long now, and then the idea of displaying them to you popped into my head and I realized how perfect that’d be.”

“Mmmmnfgh,” Harry managed, Malfoy’s words and the movements of his feet all overpowering him until all he could focus on was Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy.

“I knew deep down no one else would understand. Just knew somehow you would be the only one to truly appreciate them like they should be. I was so excited when I realized you had. I could hardly wait to show you them again,” Malfoy explained to Harry, quickening the movements of his feet up and down Harry’s cock.

“Merlin, yes, Malfoy, you’re so right. Love how you use them on my cock like that; every movement you do makes me hard. It’s like you’ve been practicing for this your whole life, been keeping your feet so perfect and pretty just so you could get me off with them like this right now. You’re so fucking good at it, fuck,” Harry sighed, barely getting the words out with how close he was to coming now.

Malfoy’s eyes brightened up a bit, and he rewarded Harry with a fucking wiggling again of his toes on the head of Harry’s cock Harry tilted his head back in pleasure, emitting a low moan.

“Just like that, Malfoy, just like that,” Harry told Malfoy endearingly, not even bothering to stop his hips from bucking up into the boy’s feet now.

“Come for me, Harry. Come for me and dirty up my feet. Please, please come for me,” Malfoy begged Harry.

Harry lost it at that. Finally, he allowed the orgasm that had been building up inside of him from the moment Malfoy had taken off his shoes in the courtyard, and he came hard all over Malfoy’s feet, the feet that had started all of this mess in the first place.

Malfoy grinned and reached down to palm his own cock through his underwear and with the first touch one of his fingers made to it, he came too, his head thrown back elegantly, the soft, white skin of his throat beautifully exposed.

“Now you got not just my feet dirty, but the inside of my underwear too, Potter,” Malfoy teased..

“Guess you’ll just have to rub my cum into your feet too then, huh,” Harry bantered back, panting as he came down from his post-orgasm high.

“You know what? That’s a great idea, Potter,” Malfoy responded before he actually turned to his feet and began to work his slender fingers on his feet again, rubbing in not lotion, but Harry’s bloody cum in this time.

Harry felt his cock twitch again, getting ready to go for the second time, and he had to physically will it down. I mean, lord, he didn’t think Malfoy would actually do what he had joked about.

“Told you I can be good too, Potter,” Malfoy smiled as he lazily massaged in the last bits of Harry’s cum into his skin. The whole thing was even more tainted than before now, and Harry was sure at this point that he wasn’t the only one who loved the thought of that.

Malfoy doing this solidified the whole encounter for Harry now. It was even more of a reality now, he realized as he watched Malfoy finish up rubbing Harry’s seed into his foot. This really did just happen, weird as it was to acknowledge that. His cum was a part of Malfoy now, dissolved into the Slytherin’s skin, a stark promise reminding Malfoy that eventually it would reside there again in the future.

“I definitely know now, Malfoy. Trust me,” Harry praised him, at which Malfoy practically burst with delight at, his mouth breaking into a wide grin.

“I should probably go get my shoes and socks from the courtyard, now, huh. Don’t wanna be walking around Hogwarts like a bum barefoot,” Malfoy kidded, eliciting a pang of jealousy in Harry. He didn’t want anyone else to see Malfoy’s feet, not even in the hallways of Hogwarts. They were his now, no one else’s.

“Yeah, I bet Ron and Hermione probably think I’ve had a diarrhea attack or something,” Harry quipped back, causing Malfoy to laugh back a bit now.

As they both walked back to where they had been sitting in the courtyard before their… intriguing meeting, Harry tried to keep his eyes off of Malfoy’s-still naked feet. Malfoy noticed and smirked back at him.

Harry sat down at the table he and Ron and Hermione had been at, looks of confusion painted on their face, probably curious as to why him and Malfoy had just come out from the same place all light and happy for once instead of throwing aggressive death threats at each other. 

But, when Harry greeted them politely again and told them there had just been a long line for the bathroom, they seemed to take it as a reasonable explanation and returned to their conversation.

Maybe Malfoy being a git and messing with him by taking his robes had actually paid off (for once).


End file.
